


The Monster in Your Head

by FeralPen



Series: postcards from the end of the world [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Developing Friendships, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, The Drift (Pacific Rim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-21 10:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16574753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralPen/pseuds/FeralPen
Summary: He'd signed up on a lark. He was a patriot. He wanted to protect the west coast from giant sea monsters as much as the next person. Getting your Drift compatibility checked was just something you did, like signing up for the draft and registering to vote. It was the American thing to do. Nationalism was on a high since the last Kaiju attack was repelled by a Jaeger calledHarlem's Heroes. Besides, all of his friends were doing it. Foggy signed up.He should have read the fine print.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We're back again! This fic establishes how someone like Foggy ended up piloting a Jaeger. I took some liberties with the lore of Pacific Rim, but hopefully it works.

He would give anything for the world to go back to a time when he heard the world “drift,” and all he thought about that stupid Fast and Furious movie that didn't even have Vin Diesel in it.

In retrospect, maybe he could skip that association, too.

He'd signed up on a lark. He was a patriot. He wanted to protect the west coast from giant sea monsters as much as the next person. Getting your Drift compatibility checked was just something you did, like signing up for the draft and registering to vote. It was the American thing to do. Nationalism was on a high since the last Kaiju attack was repelled by a Jaeger called _Harlem's Heroes_. Besides, all of his friends were doing it. Foggy signed up.

He should have read the fine print. He was a law student. He should have read the fine print.

The thing was, Foggy was good at Drifting. Like, scarily good. He knew he didn't look like much, but stick some equipment to his head, and he could Drift. And as luck would have it, the computer algorithm spat out a dog tag number that had a hush fall over the testing room.

He was on a helicopter to Hong Kong the next day.

A terrifying man in military dress uniform waited for him on the runway. He'd never seen a man wearing an honest-to-God eyepatch before. He clutched his duffle closer to his chest and felt incredibly small and stupid. What was he doing here? He should be back at his dorm eating cheese puffs and pretending to study, not standing on a military base in Hong Kong.

“Mr. Nelson,” the man said, breaking his concentration. Even his voice was scary. “Welcome to the Shatterdome.”

“Um, thanks,” Foggy said lamely. He was acutely aware of all the people in professional uniforms doing important things on the runway. He stood out like a sore thumb in his frayed sweater and overgrown goatie. 

“My name is Colonel Nicholas Fury. I'm in charge here. Follow me.”

Fury turned on his heel and started walking. He didn't look back to see if Foggy followed. 

There wasn't any choice. He stumbled to catch up.

“Do you know why you're here, Mr. Nelson?”

“Not exactly.” He finally caught up. Fury didn't slow his stride until they boarded a lift. “I signed up for Drift compatibility testing, and they told me that my results required I come here for further testing.”

The colonel snorted. “Close enough to the truth.”

Foggy hesitated. “So, what's really going on?”

The one eye gave him a stare that pierced. He felt a chill run over him. Fury's voice was cool when he spoke again.

“The war isn't going in our favor, Mr. Nelson. We need every resource we can to win it. We can't afford to let anything go to waste.” 

The lift opened, and Foggy followed him into a large bay bustling with activity and machinery. His mouth dropped open when he caught sight of a giant robot - a Jaeger. 

Fury continued as if nothing exciting was happening, “We're recommissioning one of our Mark II Jaegers that went down on the coast of Mexico two years ago.” He led Foggy past the big black Jaeger next to them with the blazing white skull on the chest to the next area, which was crawling with technicians. “We're bringing back the _Daredevil_.”

This Jaeger was still under construction, but Foggy could still make out its rusty red paint and the signature horns on its helmeted head. He felt his heart pounding with excitement.

“Oh my God,” he heard himself say. “I remember _Daredevil_! That's the one that was piloted by that guy from Hell's Kitchen!”

Fury's glance back at him was sharp, but Foggy could swear he almost saw his mouth curve into something like a smile.

“Interesting. Most people remember him for other reasons.”

“No, man, I grew up, like, two blocks away from him.” The glare sent his way had him stumbling. “Sir, I mean sir. Matt Murdock was a local hero, though. Even with the blind thing.” He may have had a poster of Murdock on his wall in his first college dorm. The guy was a prodigy - Jaeger pilot at 18, blind but still kicking ass and repping NYC. Until that last Kaiju. Until nobody had heard from him or his partner for 2 years. “But, uh, didn't he die or something?”

“Not exactly.” He crossed his arms. The flurry of activity in the background should have diminished his words, but they still rang out to Foggy loud and clear. “We're recommissioning _Daredevil and_ its pilot. That's where you come in.”

“Me?”

“You, and others. Murdock can't pilot this thing on his own. He needs a co-pilot. You don't look like much,” he glared at Foggy again. “But your score suggests a strong match to Murdock. At the end of the day, it's the Drift that matters. You'll be staying here until Sergeant Murdock has found a co-pilot. Am I clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. Now if you'll excuse me, my assistant Ms. Hill will show you around.”

The next week was hell.

Despite Fury's words, Drift-compatibility was apparently not enough. Foggy was subjected to multiple intelligence, reflex, and combat tests that had his instructors shaking their heads at him. He was hit with sticks, forced to lift weights until his muscles were jelly, and had endured enough fat-shaming to last a lifetime. He was through. At the end of the week, he marched into the control room himself.

“Okay, can we cut the bullshit?”

A hush fell over the control room. Fury turned slowly to stare at him with his one eye. His expression was carved in stone.

Foggy wavered a bit before straightening his spine. Just like his classes. He could do this.

“It's been a week. Look, I'm obviously not what you guys are looking for. You've made that abundantly clear. If you don't need me, can I please just go home?” He scoffed, then. “I didn't take out all those student loans so I could flunk a semester having my time wasted on the other side of the world.”

Fury hadn't moved during his little speech. The other people in the control room glanced back and forth between them.

“You think this is a waste of your time, Mr. Nelson?”

He swallowed, but he didn't back down. “If I was doing something important to help, then no, I'd say being here was more important than going to school. The Jaeger program is the only thing keeping the Kaiju from marching right through us. It's probably the most important thing someone could do.” He was surprised to realize that he was… upset about it. He'd never been someone to dream about piloting a Jaeger and saving the world, but if he could do it… if he could save people… “I'm just saying, you brought me here to see if I could help, and you're not letting me help. I haven't even met the guy I'm supposed to try to Drift with. You've all just been tutting over me because I'm fat and clumsy. Weren't you the ones who said Drift compatibility is the most important part of this whole thing? If you want me to Drift, then let me Drift.”

The control room was silent.

“I like him,” another voice rang out from across the room.

Foggy's head jerked to the side. There was a man sitting on the edge of a desk in the corner of the room that he hadn't seen when he came in. He wore the same drab fatigues as most of the people on the base, and a set of dog tags glinted on his chest. Foggy couldn't see his eyes through his dark sunglasses, but he could see enough of the man's classically handsome face to recognize him.

Matthew Murdock.

“I'm not convinced,” Fury said to him in a bored tone.

“He's got heart,” Murdock argued back genially. He hopped off the desk and moved towards them, avoiding obstacles without even fumbling. He matched Fury in his nonchalance. “I've seen his combat scores. I know your concerns. Let's just give him a chance.”

“You don't win a war by being plucky,” Fury retorted.

“Sure you do. Didn't you watch _Star Wars_?” Murdock turned his sightless look on Foggy. His face wrinkled into a smirk. “You're Foggy, huh?”

Foggy knew he was blushing under everyone's stares, but he shook the hand Murdock offered him without utterly embarrassing himself by being a fanboy. He was everything the posters implied. Good-looking, charming, a forceful presence in the room. His hand was cold and rough.

“Uh, yes sir. And you're Matt Murdock. I'm - Uh, it's good to meet you.”

“Likewise. You're tired of the waiting around, huh?” His smirk widened into a smile that was just a little too toothy to be friendly. “I am, too. Let's go get hooked up.”

“Like, right now-right now?”

“You got something better to do?”

He had no counter to that argument. He shook his head and followed the blind man out of the room under the weight of Colonel Fury's stare.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll finish up and post the third chapter tomorrow. Please enjoy.

He was pretty sure his heart was hammering out of his chest.

The man in the process of hooking up across from him was smirking again. Matthew Murdock. With his glasses off he looked slightly less intimidating, but not by much. Instead of looking vulnerable with his blind eyes exposed, he kept the same hardened smirk on his face.

“Relax,” he said. “We're just going to dig inside each other's heads for a while. Not a big deal.”

Okay, so after a few minutes in his presence, Matthew Murdock turned out to be kind of an asshole.

Foggy kept still while they finished hooking them up. This was the moment of truth.

“Ready to initiate neural handshake,” the tech said.

“Ready?” Murdock asked.

“Ready,” Foggy forced himself to say.

“Initiating.”

The world disappeared.

There were no words to describe the Drift. It was - exhilarating, terrifying, horrible, wonderful, intimate. Foggy's mind reached out to the strange presence that had to be Murdock. The presence reached back.

He was falling.

The world was wrong. It was dark. He couldn't see. The memories were strange - no vision, just smell-taste-sensation-sound jumbling together into a cacophony of input that he didn't know what to do with. He was drowning. He had no body, just sensation, but he could feel someone grabbing his hand.

He was in his father's butcher shop. He must have been young, because the counter looked huge. His heart felt warm and full and the alien presence - _Matt,_ it said gently - shared an impression of a smile.

_Hell's Kitchen, huh?_

It wasn't words, as you would understand them. Thoughts weren't as concrete as that. 

_Home,_ he sent back.

Hell's Kitchen beckoned. Foggy's memories provided sight of the avenues and the shopfronts. He felt the city like Matt felt it. Buzzing electricity. The raucous bustle of millions of people. The smell of garbage and hot dog carts and a hundred perfumes and colognes. 

Cold stone. Clinton Church. Incense, candles, wine. An old man's voice. _Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned._ Columbia University. Bright sunlight on the campus. The drone of a lecture. His niece's giggles. Mescal burning his tongue. Elektra?

_Not today,_ Matt said.

He was gone. Matt's grief - a sudden punch to his gut, a seeping wound, an itchy scab still sore underneath, screaming into the echoing chasm of emptiness because she's gone she's gone she's gone

Foggy tried to redirect. Tried to focus. A flower shop in Hell's Kitchen - every color and smell he could recall with as much detail as he could. The kitten he rescued once before his parents made him give it away. The taste of a good Reuben sandwich.

He was slipping. He was sliding. Blood and saltwater. It hurts it hurts it hurts

He wasn't Foggy. He wasn't Matt. He was neither of them. He was both of them. His right arm hurt. It hurt so bad so much worse than anything he's ever felt God please help us please God please Elektra no help her please God someone anyone it hurts I'm scared please

There was someone else.

Deeper and deeper Foggy sank into Matt's memory until he went still deeper into something else entirely and he _was_ someone else lips tacky with blood and lipstick and her chest felt crushed and she was so so scared. Matt was so pale, the whites of his eyes a perfect rim around the hazel she loved and it hurt and she wished she knew God was there because Matt was screaming for Him and the Kaiju wasn't dead _it wasn't dead_

Death was here and she'd never felt so small and cold and shitting herself with pure terror because it's here - Death is here and it's grinning its terrible grin and she turns to look at Matthew one last time and opens her mouth to say something, anything, but bloody bubbles come out instead and she's fading she's fading she's gone

Foggy woke up.

He'd never been in this room before. He wasn't sure for a good long moment who he was or where he was or if this was real. He tried to sit up.

“Careful,” someone said.

He rolled over and vomited over the side of the bed.

He lost some time. When he was aware again, he was propped up on a medical bed. His face was sore and salty with tears. His eyes hurt.

“Are you with us, Mr. Nelson?”

Through his hazy eyes he could see the speaker now. A woman. Beautiful. He somehow knew her name was Claire and that she smelled like cinnamon and blood.

“Claire,” he said.

The nurse paused and stared at him before her mouth stretched into a resigned smirk.

“It's never gonna stop being freaky when you Drifting people do that.”

“Sorry,” he said. 

“Don't be. Just tell me you picked up only nice things about me in Matt's head.”

“He likes the way you smell. And your voice,” he told her. He didn't tell her that Matt had definitely thought about sleeping with her. Not his secret to tell. “Where's Matt?”

“Still sleeping off the sedative I gave him.”

“You drugged him?”

She shrugged, still bustling around the room.

“He wouldn't stop screaming.”

A chill shivered down Foggy's spine.

Claire handed him a Styrofoam cup of water. He took it and carefully sipped. He wasn't sure what to say. Claire was quiet, too. She seemed unfazed, but looking closely at her, he could see the way she pinched her lips together and straightened things she'd already straightened and hovered around the little medical ward.

He was saved from saying anything by Colonel Fury striding into the room, Ms. Hill at his heels. He glared around the room at Foggy, Claire, the empty beds, and the curtained-off bed that Foggy was sure held Matt.

“What happened, Nelson?”

He looked down at his hands.

“The initial handshake looked good,” he continued. “Strong connection, good focus. Then you chased the rabbit.”

“He didn't do anything wrong,” a voice rasped from behind the curtain.

Foggy looked up from his lap. Claire rushed over to the curtain and drew it back. Matt was somehow - incredibly - sitting up and apparently lucid. His skin was pale. He didn't bother to turn his head in their direction. Claire quietly fussed over him.

“I chased the rabbit, not Foggy,” he continued. “I couldn't… I fucked it up. He did everything right.”

Fury looked at both of them with an unreadable expression. Hill fidgeted slightly behind him, her fingers an inaudible tap on her tablet. 

“Y'all will try again tomorrow at 0900,” he finally said. “Rabbit or not, the link was good.”

“No,” Matt said. He got somehow paler and pulled himself to his feet, ignoring Claire's protests. “No, Fury, I - I can't do it. I can't do it again.”

“This is about more than your ego, Sergeant.”

“It's not about my ego.” His teeth were chattering. Foggy was on his feet and reaching for him before he could think. He swatted his hands away. “I can't do it. I can't. I have to… I have to go.” 

He shrugged off Claire's hands and pushed past Fury to stumble out of the room. The Colonel didn't try to stop him. They watched him go.

“He shouldn't be up,” Claire said. “It's a miracle he's walking.”

“You want to tie him to the bed?” Fury sounded tired. He rubbed his forehead. “Murdock can't be forced. Better to let him go lick his wounds.”

“They were connected when she died,” Foggy blurted.

“I know,” Fury said.

“No, you don't.” Foggy's stomach turned again. He was going to spew again. He swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth. “I felt it too. When we went into the memory. I didn't just… see it. I felt it. I _was_ her. She was so scared.” The last was a whisper. Hot tears were on his face again. He ignored the tissues Claire offered him. 

“I know,” Fury said again. His voice was ancient. “I'd hoped that finding a new partner would help him.”

His laugh was ugly. “She wasn't the kids’ pet goldfish, Colonel. You can't just swap her out for a new one.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” Fury's glare was muted from his usual ire, but still a force to be reckoned with. Foggy's mouth shut with an audible click. “You think I underestimate Murdock's situation? I understand he needs something I can't give him, but where does that leave us? Where does that leave him? We need the _Daredevil_ and the _Daredevil_ needs Matt Murdock. He's the only one with enough experience to pilot it the way it was designed to be piloted.”

Ms. Hill interrupted then, her face solemn. “Mr. Nelson, this was Murdock's first attempt to Drift after the incident. Some setbacks are expected.”

Foggy closed his eyes. Jesus. He felt incredibly tired. Trapped in Hong Kong in between military types single-mindedly worried about the war effort and a man held together on the inside with duct tape and denial. This was way more than he'd bargained for.

“I'll take care of it,” he said. “I'll see you at 0900 tomorrow.”

Fury looked bemused. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.” Foggy brushed past the Colonel to get to the door. He ignored their stares. He had more important things to deal with.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer than I said. Real life happened in an unfriendly way.

Foggy wasn't an idiot. He knew that you couldn't “fix” people. Still, you could not be a total jerk.

His first stop was the mess hall, where he charmed and wheedled a big tray of food and some extra sweets on the side from the cooks. Then he had to find someone who knew where Matt slept, because of course Drifting told him what his crush smelled like and that he loved bananas as a kid, but he didn't pick up his room number. Useful. One of the engineers at the mess hall gave him directions. Thus armed, he headed to battle.

The door of the room opened before he got there. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Apparently Matt had bat ears. Question for another time.

“Go away,” Matt said.

“Not until you eat this dinner I brought,” Foggy said cheerfully.

It was hard to be cheerful. The things he saw in Matt's head were still clamoring to haunt his nightmares, but he didn't have time for that right now. Right now, Matt Murdock needed some TLC. Foggy prided himself on his ability to compartmentalize.

The Murdock in question tilted his head like a confused dog. “No?”

“Come on. I've got chocolate.”

He looked interested, at least. He moved aside so Foggy could come in.

“I'm sorry,” Matt said.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said firmly. “Come on. Sit. Eat.”

They ended up cross-legged on the floor with the tray between them. It was rather cozy.

“Are you okay?”

“Me?” Foggy laughed it off. “I'm fine.”

Matt's face hardened. “You're lying.”

His heart skipped a beat. Damn, but Matt could be scary.

“I'm not lying.”

“Yes you are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too -” Matt cut himself off. He looked even more confused now. “Are we…?”

“Bickering like children?” He grinned. “Yes we are.”

He looked confused and upset. Foggy nudged him gently.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay to have fun.”

He didn't look like he agreed. He ate another piece of chocolate, though. That was good. Chocolate fixed everything. Foggy waited for him to carefully chew and swallow before he dropped the next gambit on him.

“Can you tell me about her?”

Matt froze. 

“Elektra,” Foggy clarified. Her name felt strange in his mouth. Especially when he felt like he'd been her just a few hours ago. He forced it down. He couldn't chase any rabbits right now. This was too important. He plowed on. “I'd like to know about her.”

“You already saw her,” he said bitterly.

Foggy shook his head. “Not that. Not that memory. I mean _her._ The person. I want to know her.”

The color was draining out of Matt's face. He shook his head. “No, I… I don't think you do. You can't.”

“Matt. Hey. Buddy. I'm going to touch you, okay? Is that okay?” He waited for Matt's jerky nod. He scooted closer and gently tugged him into a hug. He was incredibly tense. Foggy kept taking. “This okay? Okay. Good. Man, when's the last time you got a hug? You're so tense. Breathe in for me, buddy.”

It should have felt weird to be cuddling up to a man he'd just met, but it felt pretty natural after sharing his brain today. The talking was working, too. He was gradually relaxing so it felt less like hugging a 2x4.

“It's okay, buddy. Relax. We're just a couple of grown men having a snuggle. This is fine.”

Matt actually snorted a little. He called that a victory.

“You gotta let these things out, buddy. You talk to anyone about this?”

“A hardass abuelita in Mexico,” Matt said. Foggy waited for him to laugh. No, he wasn't joking. Matt was just that weird. “Fury makes me visit a therapist, but…”

“...It's indescribable, isn't it?”

They were quiet for the moment. Foggy wondered what Matt was thinking. He, himself, was carefully avoiding the abyss Elektra's death seemed to leave in his soul. He couldn't complain. He'd only gotten the shadow of that connection, a moment frozen in time. It had to be infinitely worse for Matt.

“She hated red apples.”

He startled. Matt lifted his head off of Foggy's collarbone and straightened. His knees still rested flush with Foggy's.

“She liked the green ones,” he continued. His voice was still hoarse, hesitating over the words as he carefully picked and chose them. “Her mother would bake with the green apples, and she'd eat the peels. The more tart the better.”

He swallowed heavily. His eyes darted around the room. Foggy was silent, afraid to break the spell. When Matt spoke again, it was with more confidence.

“She preferred mescal over tequila. Wouldn't drink cheap champagne, but her favorite wine costed eight dollars. She grew up in the lap of luxury but she still... her heart was in the right place. She - She told everyone she joined the Jaeger Program to piss off her father, but it wasn't the truth. She wanted to fight.

“She was - she was so beautiful when she fought. You should have seen it. She was so - so vibrant, so alive.” His lips trembled, but he pulled himself together before Foggy could say anything. “Her favorite flowers were peonies. The petals were soft, like being tickled by little kittens. Her words, not mine. She was silly that way. She liked to read trashy romances and complain that they were predictable, but she was still excited whenever we got more.”

Matt licked his lips. His breath was a trembling sigh.

“You loved her,” Foggy said softly.

His whispered reply came without hesitation. “More than life itself.” 

Foggy took a moment to put the pieces together. The blithe, smirking hardass from before they Drifted and the mosaic of agony in front of him. It was like Drifting had taken a hammer to his facade. Gone was the prodigy hero. All that was left was the man.

“Do you even want to be here, Matt?”

He tilted his head again quizzically.

Foggy fumbled for the right way to phrase his question. “I'm just… Fury and Hill… they are both so focused on fighting the Kaiju, I feel like maybe it's given them tunnel vision. All they see is the big picture. Did they even ask you if you wanted to come back?”

“Well, they didn't kidnap me, if that's what you're asking,” he replied dryly. His shell of asshole must have been reforming.

“Then what are you doing here? Why are you - why put yourself through this again? Help me understand.”

Matt was quiet for a long time. Foggy was just opening his mouth to say something else when he finally spoke.

“Why do you want to be a lawyer?”

“What?” That wasn't what he was expecting. Matt seemed to be serious, though. “Um, well, because I feel like it's the right thing for me to do. I've always been… argumentative is a kind word for it. And I want to help people. I want to learn enough to help people who can't help themselves.”

“So it's your calling.” Matt sounded satisfied. 

“I suppose it is.”

“I thought this was mine.” His gesture seemed to encompass the whole base. “I - people have always treated me like I was glass. I hate that. Here, everyone knows what I can do. I can make a difference here.”

“Saving people.”

“Protecting them.” His sightless gaze was steely. “Those monsters… they're evil, Foggy. Pure evil. If I can stand between them and innocent people…”

Foggy nodded. He wasn't sure what else there was to say. 

“You should go back to New York.”

Foggy's head jerked up.

“You're getting rid of me?”

Matt's resolve wavered. He hardened his features again. “You should follow your calling.”

“So you're just gonna replace me?” He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, but the rejection still punched him in the gut. He tried to keep the hurt out of his voice. “I know I'm not anyone's first choice, but I thought…”

“You don't want this. You know what being a Jaeger pilot is? It's a death sentence.” His voice was bitter. “You get nothing at the end of it but a watery grave.”

“So that's what you've decided? For the both of us?” He was mad. So much madder than he expected to be. Matt's eyebrows shot up. “You chicken out after Drifting once, and you kick me to the curb?”

“You make it sound like I'm dumping you.”

“I mean, you kind of are. I thought our connection - before we went down the rabbit hole - was good. Maybe even great.”

“It was good. It really was.” He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “I'm trying to protect you.”

“Well, save it, Murdock.” Goggy dragged himself to his feet. “Look, sleep on it. If we change our minds… tomorrow. Fury wants us to try again tomorrow. If you don't show up, I'll understand. I just… I think this could work. I think we could do a lot of good together.”

He forced himself to leave the room. Matt was a grown man. He could make his own choices. If He didn't want to be partners in this, fine. He couldn't say he didn't try.

He went back to his little room. He checked his phone, called his parents, told them nothing.

His dreams were dark and twisting that night. He tasted saltwater and blood and woke up in a cold sweat. He didn't sleep much.

He still got up in the morning, got dressed. He tried not to look for Murdock in the crowd, but caught himself doing it anyway. The coffee in the mess hall was hot and dark. He checked his watch. 0723. He had a long way to go.

He killed time chatting with some of the engineers hanging around the Jaeger bay. The _Daredevil_ looked almost as good as new. He followed the seams of new welding and paint where he knew it had been shredded apart. He shuddered. He left when he caught a rough-looking man with a buzzcut staring at him from the level above. He had to get back to the testing room, anyway.

He tried to keep his hopes low. Matt had seemed pretty sure that he wasn't coming. If that were true, this was his last day in the Shatterdome. He could go back to Columbia. The thought didn't bring him the satisfaction he was expecting.

He showed his face in the testing room. Fury and Hill were there, their faces a mask of bland curiosity. A quick glance around revealed that Matt really hadn't showed. The disappointment bubbled in his chest.

“Sorry I'm late.”

His heart hammered in his ears. He turned.

Murdock looked - sheepish? His sightless gaze was zeroed in on Foggy. He pasted on a weak smile.

“One more shot,” he said. He came closer and took Foggy's hand. “If this is really what you want… then we'll try again.”

Foggy knew his face had to be ridiculous. He threw his arms around Matt, knocking his air out with a little grunt and causing all the techs to pause in their work to stare.

“You won't regret this, buddy.”

“Time will tell,” he said back dourly.

“You two need another minute?” Fury didn't look impressed.

Matt's grin was bright and charming. “No sir! Hook us up, Colonel.”

He and Matt sat back in the chairs they'd been in the say before. The techs started hooking them up. Foggy reached out for his hand.

“Ready to initiate neural handshake,” the tech said.

“Ready?” Foggy asked.

“Not really,” Matt answered. He looked a little pale. He squeezed his hand.

“Me neither,” he said cheerfully. “Beam us up, Scotty.”

He just heard Matt's snort as the connection established. Once more, they faded into the Drift.

This time, it felt like flying. Holding Matt's hand, Foggy guided them through the Drift.

_I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,_ he sent to Matt.

Matt's grin in his head was all the answer he needed.


End file.
